When Days Were Long and Pleasant
by PrincessOfSilence
Summary: This place was new, and he was different. I'd been alive for years, but never met someone quite like him...and it scared me. Prequel to I Wish It Was You. Damon/OC
1. Prologue: A Mother and a Father

**Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries, but I do own my OC, Miranda.**

**Miranda's POV**

_**April 1862**_

I stood inside a skeleton; there was nothing left except the bones that used to hold a life together. A house with no furniture and no people; faded outlines from paintings that were now gone marred the seemingly perfect paper on these walls…these bones. In this room, I changed the path of two lives, and in the process, I changed my own.

Suddenly, I went from a wanderer to a settler; the warm welcome I had been given had changed into a loving relationship within a mere week. It wasn't morally easy for me to alter their minds—their memories—and toy with their lives, but it had to be done. I regretted having to rip them away from their perfect life here, but we couldn't stay.

I left everything to them, hoping that fate would guide us in the right direction, and they began to build our new life from scratch. Our destination: Mystic Falls, Virginia. We have a large house there, bought from a Mayor Benjamin Lockwood, one of the founders of the town.

Anticipation rose as the day we were to leave for Mystic Falls grew closer, and I found myself settling into a pleasant comfort; something inside of me wanted to believe that this was the right path to take.

I sighed and took a final look around the parlor, and made my way outside where they were waiting for me. Their smiles greeted me as I stepped outside, walked across the vast front porch, and down the small set of steps to join them.

Marybeth Arlington was a beautiful woman with a kind face, and an even kinder heart, despite her affinity for rules and etiquette. It broke my heart to see her weep when I told her that her son was dead, and only solidified my decision to spare them all the pain. Her ginger hair was carefully pinned underneath a fashionable burgundy and chartreuse hat that matched her dress, and she reached up and fiddled with a curl that had fell out of place.

"Mother, stop fussing," I said as I reached her. "You look beautiful."

"It just won't stay," she laughed.

Robert Arlington was a distinguished man who enjoyed nothing more than to sit quietly and read when he was done with any business matters he had to attend to. He was very cheerful, and had grown on me in the short time I'd known him with his tall tales and humorous stories of his youth. Despite his graying hair and slightly wrinkled skin, Robert had a young spirit.

I knew, almost instantly, that he and Marybeth were made for each other, and it touched my heart to witness the love they shared for each other.

"Are you anxious, Sweet Pea?" Robert asked, taking my hand in his and squeezing it gently. Sweet Pea was the nickname he had given me when I compelled him and Marybeth to believe I was their daughter, and I loved it; I never had a nickname before.

"Quite; my heart is fluttering in anticipation," I lied. My heart had stopped beating a _long_ time ago.

As the carriage bounced down the road and away from the Arlington's house, I looked back at it, enjoying its beautiful architecture for the last time.

"Don't worry, Miranda dear," Marybeth said, placing her hand on my arm. "Mystic Falls will be a lovely place; I'm sure you'll love it there."

**A/N: And so it begins. Reviews are welcomed and appreciated. Let me know what you think so far; is it a good start? More to come soon…**


	2. Ashes of a Past I Wish to Forget

**Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries, but I do own my OC, Miranda.**

**Miranda's POV**

"…the flowers have only begun to bloom. You'll be happier to know that they are much more beautiful in the summer."

"I'm sure they will be, Mr. Lockwood," I replied, blinking a few times to focus my attention the man who was escorting me around the garden behind my new home in Mystic Falls. Despite the constant one-sided conversation that George Lockwood provided, I almost fell asleep a few times; the sleep I lost during the tedious move and the blazing hot sun that beat down upon the Earth didn't make matters better. Part of me felt terrible for my behavior, but the other part was too tired and bloodthirsty to care.

We had only been in Mystic Falls for a few hours, familiarizing ourselves with the large house and organizing our belongings, when Mayor Lockwood and his son came to welcome us to the small town.

"George," he said, lightly squeezing my gloved hand, which he held in the crook of his elbow like a proper gentlemen should. "You can call me George, if you'd like."

"I'd rather not," I replied.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I'm afraid that is…too familiar, sir. Seeing as we have just met each other."

"As you wish," George gave me a polite smile, despite the dejection in his voice.

"Miranda!" We stopped abruptly, and turned to face the house. Robert stood on the steps leading down from the house to the garden; he waved to us before motioning that I was needed inside.

"It seems that your father requires your attention," George's smooth voice pulled my attention back to him. His gaze was focused on our hands, a distant look in his eyes.

"I'd like to apologize, Mr. Lockwood," I said, with a small smile. "My mind has been straying the entire time I have been in your company; I'm afraid the long journey here has taken a larger toll on me than I had expected."

"There is no need to apologize," he replied, hope suddenly flooding his voice. "Perhaps the next time we find ourselves together, I will have your full, undivided attention."

"Perhaps," I laughed. "Unless I'm as incapacitated as I am now." This earned me a laugh from George.

"Have a good day, Miss Arlington," he said, lifting my hand to his lips and kissing the back of it.

"Thank you, Mr. Lockwood. Have a safe journey home." I turned and walked back up to the house. As I got to the steps, I turned around to wave goodbye and found that he was watching after me; I smiled shyly and headed inside.

* * *

><p>I stared up at the ceiling of my bedroom, my sharp eyes cutting through the darkness and focusing on the vast blanket of white. It had been easy to slip out in the dark shadow of the night to feed. I had been so hungry earlier that even a rabbit would have sufficed; despite the horrid difference between animal and human blood, my thirst was now quenched and I could go a day or two without having to hunt again.<p>

A breeze rustled the trees outside, and the pleasant calming sound made its way through the open bedroom window, stirring the restless thoughts in my mind once again. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the sounds that had comforted me when I was a child…when I was human. The melodic sounds of the bell tower, the faint shouts of merchants in the marketplace, my father commanding the guards and soldiers, and the soft rolling roar of the sea just outside the walls of my home.

I sighed and sat up abruptly, wiping the tears from my face. "This isn't going to happen," I muttered. "Not now, not _ever_." I needed to let go of everything. Mystic Falls needed to be a fresh start, even if I would have to leave it eventually. I would enjoy this while I was here…the sense of normality that I could have.

Eventually, I found myself downstairs in the room that would eventually be Robert's study once we were completely settled in. Books of different sizes were placed in uneasy stacks around the room; the polished walnut desk sat directly in front of the large window, with a green wingback chair behind it. I walked over and jumped into it ungracefully before opening the small leather-bound journal in my hands.

I flipped through page after page, watching my handwriting change styles and languages. Latin, Italian, French, English…the list went on, despite the fact that the memories of them were fragmented now. Letters to people who left a lasting impact on my life, despite whether I had known them for years, or had only met them for a fleeting moment. Eventually I reached the very last page, which I had started writing the night I met the Arlingtons; words had escaped me when I had begun and I was forced to stop.

I traced the name at the very top of the page with my fingertips; James Arlington. I thought about the very second I found him, dying unceremoniously in the middle of a forest. Crying, not in pain, but because of the sorrow of knowing that his parents would be when they found out he was dead.

I opened one of the drawers of the desk and pulled out an inkwell and dip pen. I immediately began writing, watching as the ink made its way onto the page and formed the words that echoed hauntingly in my mind.

_I made their pain go away, but their memories of you are still in their minds, like a dream which lingers in their thoughts. I hope that you can forgive me for being a coward; I could have saved you, but instead I ended your suffering._

_You thought of me as an angel, but I am not. I do not renew life, James, nor do I bring hope; I have the chance to do good, but I never do. I herald death and it shall follow me wherever I go. You are but a name now; a name and a face in a long line of names and faces I will never forget. Wherever your soul lies, I can only hope that it is in a good place. Sweet-scented flowers and clear waters, or grassy green fields and blue skies. Whatever your heart desires…until the end of days. My prayers lie with you._

_Love Always,_

_Miranda_

My beautiful scrolling signature on the bottom of the page felt chilling. A beautiful name with a beautiful meaning given to a monster like me.

Once the ink was dry, I shut the back cover and tied the journal closed; I placed a soft kiss on the cover and sighed. Tomorrow I would burn this book and hope that the words inside would reach the souls they were meant for…and that there wouldn't be more following them.

**A/N: I'm five days into my vacation and all I want to do is go back to school; blame the puny chapter on that. I hope you enjoyed it. Next one will be better, I promise.**


	3. Sweeter Than Honey

**Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries, but I do own my OC, Miranda.**

**Damon's POV**

I walked out of the tavern and looked through the foggy darkness down Main Street; my night had been long and slightly hazy now from a few too many drinks. I smirked, thinking of George Lockwood who was still inside, passed out at the table we had been occupying.

Although we had always been friends, forced to befriend each other by our fathers when we were younger, there was always an unspoken rivalry between us. Which family produced the best son: Lockwood or Salvatore? Who was more educated? Who was the best looking? In this case, it was a test to see who could drink more whiskey.

As I made my way home, the brisk night air pulled my mind out of its haze; perhaps this victory wasn't really something to be proud of. I stopped suddenly when I heard a loud snapping noise and the rustling of branches in the woods that surrounded me.

"Hello?" I called out, but I was only met with the steady sounds of chirping crickets and hooting owls. I was about to proceed when something—or rather, someone—stumbled out of the trees and stopped in front of me on the road, turning to face me immediately. It was very dark, but I could make out long, loosely curled hair, pale skin, and the curvy silhouette of a woman; I noticed that she wasn't wearing a dress, but trousers and shirt. I could feel her gaze on me for what felt like hours, but then she vanished into thin air, leaving me to wonder whether or not she had been real.

"I really need to get home," I muttered aloud, shaking my head in disbelief.

* * *

><p><strong>Miranda's POV<strong>

I climbed into my bedroom window, completely exhausted and mildly disturbed; I pulled the blood-stained hunting knife from its place in my boot and threw myself onto my bed, not bothering to change my clothes. It was late and I was tired, but I obviously couldn't sleep because of the thoughts rushing through my mind.

After living in Mystic Falls for a month, I decided to hunt as far away from the town as I could to avoid suspicious. Tonight, I was already quite tired when I left once everyone in the house was asleep, so I didn't notice the loud heartbeat as I returned.

I made the mistake of stopping when I tripped over the tree root, and that was when I noticed him. A man had seen me…actually _seen_ me. I noticed the smell of alcohol surrounding him right away, so as I quickly dashed away, I hoped that he would just play it as a figment of imagination.

I sighed and forced myself to get up and change into my nightclothes. Tomorrow would be a long day, and I needed to rest.

* * *

><p>"…quiet girl, isn't she?"<p>

"That's the Arlington girl. I heard that she's incredibly shy."

"How can someone like _her_ be shy? She looks so…"

"Confident?"

"No. But there's something about her I can't put my finger on."

A small smirk made its way onto my lips as I walked though the town square; I could hear the women gossiping as soon as they laid eyes on me, and although I didn't really want the attention, I enjoyed hearing all the things they said. I felt like a new toy they got to play with until they realized I was just as normal—well, as normal as I could be—as they were.

I knew the reason why they were so…interested in me; in the few weeks since we settled in Mystic Falls, I had mostly kept to myself. The first time I ventured out of the house for social reasons was a week ago when Marybeth and I attended a small tea party at Mrs. Forbes' house. Despite everyone's warm welcome, I had stayed relatively quiet, only talking when I was spoken to directly. I wouldn't have spoken at all, since I had a terrible headache due to a lack of blood, but I didn't want to seem rude.

I stepped into the General Store, thankful to be out of the blazing sun once again, and sighed. An elderly couple stood behind the counter at the side of the store, talking quietly as they organized glass jars on the countertop. The woman looked over at me and smiled sweetly.

"Hello dear, can we help you with something?" she asked.

"My father was in here yesterday and ordered bought a few things," I told her. "I'm here to pick them up, and I have a few letters he asked me to send."

"I'll take those," I placed the letters into the man's open hand with a smile and he looked at them. "Alright, I'll be back shortly with the things your father wanted." He left through a door that led to, what I assumed was, a back room.

"You're the Arlington girl, aren't you?" the woman asked me.

"How did you know?" I asked.

"Word travels fast in this town," she replied. "You're father's a good man, Miss Arlington. He stayed in here for almost an hour striking up genuine conversation with my husband, especially about family. He said nothing but praises about his beautiful, talented daughter."

I blushed and looked away across the room bashfully; I spotted a bunch of shelves that were lined with various-shaped containers. Many of the things that were on display in the store were foreign to me, especially since vampires didn't _need _to eat normal food. Even though I had been trying to eat what Robert and Marybeth ate, I didn't really understand what everything was; food was one of the things that my mind decided to forget over time. One thing was for certain, though, food was _exponentially_ better than animal blood.

I excused myself and walked across the room, eying burlap sacks marked "coffee beans" and "flour". There were boxes of matches, which I decided to avoid—fire plus vampire equals bad—but my gaze rested on a shelf lined with small jars that contained a viscous, golden substance. I read the label and frowned.

"What on earth is it?"

* * *

><p><strong>Damon's POV<strong>

"Good Morning Mr. Salvatore," Mrs. Smith, the old woman who ran the General Store, greeted me as I walked inside. I politely removed my hat and smiled as I walked over to her. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I have a list of things my father needs right away," I replied. I pulled a list from my jacket pocket and handed it to her.

Mrs. Smith nodded and took the list, leaving me alone in the front part of the shop. I sighed and ran a hand over my face; if it were up to me, I would have been either sleeping or in my room alone, basking in complete darkness and silence. The heat of the day made being alive unbearable, but _my father_ thought having me go and run errands for him would be punishment for getting home so late.

I looked around the shop and spotted a young woman standing by the wall with her back to me, staring at jars that were lined carefully on the shelves. I watched as she carefully picked up one of the small jars and examined it carefully, weighed it in her gloved hands and ran her fingers over the smooth glass.

Curiosity took over my body and I found myself approaching her; as I got closer I saw she was looking at a jar of honey with wide, fascinated eyes. "You've never seen honey before?" I asked, startling her.

The woman turned to me, and part of me felt like I could drop dead right then. Her curly hair was carefully placed under a fashionable, royal blue hat that matched her dress, but a few stray curls framed her face. Her green eyes were lined with dark, feather-like lashes which contrasted greatly against her smooth, pale skin. She was breathtaking—for a lack of a better word—and for a moment, I thought I was in the company of a goddess or an angel.

Perhaps this trip to the General Store wasn't a punishment after all; it certainly didn't feel like it.

"I have no idea what it could be used for," she replied softly, smiling bashfully. "Do you know?" My shock faded, and I slowly regained my composure.

"Of course. You can use it on biscuits or in pastries." I replied, noticing the glimmer of fascination in her eyes. I carefully took the jar from her hands and placed it back on the shelf. "You really don't know what it is, do you?"

"I have no reasons to lie to you," she replied. "I've never seen honey before; I've always turned sweets down."

"Then you've been living under a rock for your entire life." I said in the most polite way possible. "Are you knew to Mystic Falls?"

"How did you guess?" she asked.

"I always remember a beautiful face," I replied, smirking. "I'm Damon Salvatore." I carefully grasped her hand, and brushed my lips against the back of it gently. My lips lingered on her hand as I caught a sweet scent that seemed to radiate off of her; I ran through different possibilities in my mind, but couldn't find a scent that matched this one.

"I'm Miranda Arlington. It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Salvatore."

"The pleasure is mine, Miss Arlington," I told her. "I've overheard my father talking to Mayor Lockwood about your family; you're father recently bought the estate out in the large meadow in the woods. It's very beautiful there; the house is large, not as large as the other estates in Mystic Falls, but I think the gardens make up for it."

"Yes, I—" Miranda was about to reply when we were interrupted by Mr. Smith, who walked in from the back room, carrying a large wicker basket.

"Here you are, Miss Arlington. Just as you're father asked," he said with a smile as he approached us. His eyes flickered up to the two of us standing together. "And, Mr. Salvatore, my wife is just finishing up the things for you."

"Thank you," I replied with a forced smile, silently cursing him for interrupting my conversation with this…angel.

* * *

><p><strong>Miranda's POV<strong>

I walked out of the General Store, carrying the basket with both my hands as I made my way down the street to go home.

"Miss Arlington," I heard behind me. "Miss Arlington, wait!" I stopped and turned around and found my new acquaintance quickly approaching me as he placed his hat on his head and tucked a package under his arm.

Damon Salvatore…Damon…Salvatore. There was something so perfectly different about him that made me want to be in his company all day; I never felt something like that about anyone before, but I couldn't place my finger on what it was about him. It was not his light, piercing blue eyes that held so much warmth and emotion. Not his dark, slightly curly hair that gave him a somewhat innocently disheveled, but perfectly groomed appearance. And definitely not the smirk that constantly played on his perfect lips.

I think it may have been his polite demeanor, and the fact that it wasn't just a façade to appear proper and kind. Of all the people I met in this town, he was the first that seemed genuinely interested in me, while still being playful. As I watched him, I laughed at his clumsy rushed to reach me.

"I hope you aren't laughing at _me_, Miss Arlington," he said as he stopped in front of me. "That wouldn't exactly be the most proper thing to do."

"On the contrary, Mr. Salvatore," I said, trying to stifle my laughter. "I am laughing at a humorous thought that drifted across my mind."

"Would you like to share?"

"Not at the moment, no."

"Then you _were_ laughing at me," he smirked, and feigned offense. "If I wasn't such a gentlemen, I would never have come to ask if you would like to be escorted home." I calmed down a bit and stared at him before replying.

"I don't need to be escorted home," I replied politely, turning to leave. "But thank you for offering."

"But you have such a large basket to carry by yourself," he continued, following me as I walked away. "I should carry it for you, at least."

"I'm not fragile or inept," I informed him. "It is not _that_ big of a basket; I can handle it."

"Are you sure?" he asked, looking at me with concern in his eyes.

"Yes," I said quietly. "I'm positive."

"Well then, Miss Arlington," he said, taking my hand in his. I felt a pleasant warmth radiate through me as he lifted my hand up to his lips. "It was a pleasure to meet you, and I do hope to see you again soon." He lowered my hand but his grip tightened for a second before he let go. "_Very_ soon."

I looked over my shoulder once after I walked away, and found Damon staring after me, smirking; I felt myself blushing and I just shook my head as I continued home. Part of me hoped to never see him again just for the sake of avoiding embarrassment, but another part of me hoped to see him again soon, just as he had said.

"_Very soon._"

* * *

><p><strong>Damon's POV<strong>

Later that night, I was sitting at home in the library; I tried many times to focus on the words in the book I was holding, but my mind kept drifting. Stefan had noticed my detachment from reality as soon as I came home, but I just shrugged him off.

"Damon," my father's voice pulled me from my thoughts, and my gaze snapped up to see him standing at the door, watching me. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

"No, father," I replied. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"I asked if you decided to forego another night with your friends at the tavern," he said, walking into the library and taking a seat in the wingback chair across from me. His elbows rested on the arm rests and his fingers were tented in front of him as his gaze bore into me. "Is there something on your mind, son?"

"No, father." I shook my head; he might have been a very strict and emotionless man, but when he worried about Stefan and I, it was as if nothing else mattered. "Nothing you should be concerned with."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I replied. "I'm probably just coming down with something."

"Should I send for the doctor in town?" he asked, frowning.

"No. I'll be just fine; I probably need some rest." I watched as my father got up, his demeanor returning to one I was familiar with.

"That's your own fault then," he replied coldly. "You should know better than to stay out all night with your friends. What kind of example do you think you're setting for your brother?" Once he was gone, I sighed and slumped back in my chair.

"What kind of example are _you_ setting for him by being a emotionless fiend, father?"

**A/N: Miranda and Damon's first meeting…well, meetings…well, encounter and meeting. Sorry for the tardiness of this chapter, I should have posted it a **_**long**_** time ago, but I wasn't completely satisfied with it until now. Thanks for all the support so far.**

**Reviews are always appreciated; until next time…**


	4. Dream a Little Dream

**Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries, but I do own my OC, Miranda.**

**Miranda's POV**

"Miss Arlington," one of the maids knocked lightly on the door. "Are you awake? Your mother wishes to know if you are ready for breakfast." I sighed and pushed myself up from my lounging position on my bed, where I was engulfed in a book Robert had picked from his vast collection of books for me to read. He thought it would be a good way for me to stop daydreaming, as I had been for the past week and a half. I looked down at myself and almost gasped in shock; I had gotten so sidetracked with the book, I hadn't finished dressing properly.

"Uh, I'll be downstairs in a minute," I called back, silently cursing Ann Radcliffe for writing such a good book. I quickly rushed around my room and scrambled to finish getting ready. "Unbelievable," I muttered as I looked in the vanity mirror, and tried to tie my hair to the side with a ribbon that matched my dress.

"Do you need any help, miss?"

"No, I'm fine. You can go now." I took a deep breath and slowed down a little bit.

This was _his_ fault; ever since I met Damon Salvatore, he had been occupying my thoughts. I found myself daydreaming while taking a walk in the garden, or in the dining room with Marybeth and Robert; he was even plaguing my _actual_ dreams. It was a nice change from the nightmares that kept me awake, but it was also annoying and only I was to blame; did Damon have to be so different from the other residents of Mystic Falls that he seemed…perfect to me?

This confusion only added onto my problem; I was conflicted. I didn't know whether or not I _wanted_ to see him again. If I did, perhaps this…distraction from reality would go away; maybe it was only a desire to get to know him better and find a friend in this stuffy little town. But then again, if I never saw Damon again, I might never have to deal with this problem; out of sight, out of mind.

"UGH!" I screamed in exasperation; I picked up my hairbrush from the vanity table and threw it away in anger, not anticipating my strength. When I opened my eyes, I saw that the handle had pierced through one of the many pillows on my bed, sending the feathers in every direction. "Oh my," I mumbled bashfully.

* * *

><p><strong>Damon's POV<strong>

_I walked down a long, unfamiliar corridor; every so often, I would stop and try one of the doors that lined the seemingly endless hallway, but each one would be locked. The corridor turned, and against the outer wall was a set of windows that were letting in so much light, it was impossible to look outside; I reached up and drew the dark blue curtains to protect my eyes from the blinding brightness._

_ As I continued walking, the corridor became increasingly darker. I could barely make out the flickering glow of candlelight coming faintly from a door at the very end. I willed my legs to move faster, but it felt as if I was walking through molasses; I knew that if I was ever going to find a way out of this, my only chance was to go through that door._

_ I sighed in relief when I finally was able to place my hand upon the cool doorknob and it turned easily. As the door crept open, my eyes scanned the room, a soft twinkling song reaching my ears; the room was practically bare, except for elaborate curtains that covered the windows, a few candles laid out here and there, and someone lying in the middle of the floor with their back to me._

_ "Are you ok?" I asked, getting the attention of the person. They turned and looked over their shoulder at me, smiling as our eyes met._

_ "Damon!" Miranda exclaimed, pushing herself off the floor, and ran to me. I could see a small music box on the floor, the source of the eerie lullaby that permeated the air. I barely had time to brace myself as Miranda's small frame practically attacked me in an embrace. After a few moments, she backed away and looked up at me in a gaze so full of affection that I never wished to look away. "You saved me."_

_ "Saved you?" I asked, frowning. I looked at her and noticed she wasn't in a dress, but instead in a delicately embroidered linen shirt, a leather corset, leg-hugging slacks, flat boots that reached her knees. Her hair was pulled to the side and tied with a red ribbon so it stayed hanging over her shoulder. I didn't mind one bit; she looked just as beautiful now as she did when she was in a dress…more so even._

_ "You saved me," she repeated, softer this time. I could see tears glistening in the corners of her tired eyes. I caught her in my arms just as her eyes fell shut and she lost her ability to stand. I could feel electricity running through me as Miranda laid her head on my shoulder, and I felt her breath tickling my neck as I gently lowered her to the floor, taking extra care to make sure she wasn't hurt._

_ "I need you Damon," she whispered. "I need you to save me."_

I shot up in my bed, covering my eyes as the bright morning sun hit them. There was a loud, yet cautious knock on my bedroom door. "Damon?" I heard from outside. "Are you alright?"

"Of course," I replied, quickly getting out of bed and hurrying to get my clothes. I was ready in a few short minutes, and I opened the door, hopping to put my other boot on. I found my 15-year-old brother leaning against the wall across the hall with his arms crossed and a bored expression on my face.

"Can I help you, young Stefan?" I asked in a teasing manner.

"Father wanted me to see if you were awake yet," he replied. "He needs you to do something for him."

"Of course he does," I sighed, looking at my reflection in a mirror in the hallway to make sure I looked presentable. I was going to be 22 in a couple months, and I didn't need my father to berate me for every small detail that wasn't to his liking. I kept walking towards the stairs so I could at least get some coffee before I had to go on whatever wild goose chase my father asked of me.

"Did you have a nightmare Damon?" Stefan asked as he trailed along behind me.

"No," I scoffed. "I'm too old to dream of monsters; you on the other hand…"

"They why were you talking in your sleep?"

"You're imagining things Stefan," I told him, silently hoping that he _was_ just imagining things. I needed to stop thinking of Miranda Arlington, because if this continued any longer, I might just go crazy; she occupied my mind at any spare moment I had. Her smile, her eyes, her voice; everything about her was like an infection…but every cell in my body refused to fight it.

"But I heard you," he insisted as we made our way down the stairs. "You said "she needs me" and "I need to save her." Who do you need to save, brother?" I stopped when we reached the bottom and turned to face him.

"Listen Stefan," I began. "You need to learn that it is impolite to put your ear to someone's door and eavesdrop."

"But I—"

"Besides, I don't even remember what I dreamt of last night," I lied. "Maybe I did have a nightmare; I just can't remember." As I walked away, I prayed that it would be a good enough answer for him.

* * *

><p><strong>Miranda's POV<strong>

Robert and I were usually silent during breakfast, letting Marybeth take hold of the conversation; I never understood where she got so much energy so early in the day. All I could usually manage was a "yes, mother" or "no, father" as I forced myself to consume the food that I was slowly getting accustomed to. This morning was no different.

"…the roses are beginning to bloom," Marybeth chattered away. "I think that once they're finished, I'll cut a few and put them in a vase in the front hall. Don't you think that they'd contrast with the mahogany chest, Robert?"

"Yes dear," he nodded in agreement as he absentmindedly stirred his coffee. Marybeth looked up from her own coffee and stared at him, an annoyed look forming on her face.

"Robert!" she exclaimed, slamming her hand on the table forcefully, causing everything to clatter in an terrible manner.

"I'm sorry," he replied, folding his paper in half and placing it on the table. "What were you saying dear?" Marybeth laughed, her anger now gone, replaced by amusement.

"Take an example from your father, Miranda," she told me. "Don't marry someone who doesn't listen."

"Take an example from your mother," Robert interjected. "Don't marry someone who needs your approval on every little detail." He looked over to Marybeth now. "Yes, the white roses will look fine in the main hall."

"Thank you," she chimed happily and continued with her breakfast. I sighed and stared at the platter of small golden disks and frowned; I had never noticed them on the table before, but then again, I never paid attention to what kind of food I consumed.

I cautiously reached across the table and picked on up, dropping it onto my plate as it burned my skin; next time I would remember to wait until these…things were cool before picking one up. After a few long moments of waiting, I gently poked it with my finger and my eyes widened as I felt its pliable, doughy texture.

"Are you going to eat your biscuit dear?" Marybeth asked. "Or are you going to stare at it all day?"

"Uh," I was at a loss for words. Biscuit…why did the name sound familiar? That's when it hit me…

"Mother," I asked, gaining her attention once again. "Do we happen to have any honey?"

* * *

><p>I carefully pushed the needle through the shoulder seam of the jacket, wincing as it poked my finger; I figured that learning how to sew would be beneficial to repair my clothes that snagged on branches and whatnot while I was hunting, despite my extreme care. I didn't think that teaching myself would prove difficult, though. I was grateful that the fabric of the jacket was heavy enough that the wind wouldn't toss it around as it did my hair; I hadn't thought about the soft breeze when I decided to get away from Marybeth's intrusive eyes and go outside.<p>

"Well, well, well," a smooth voice came from beside me. "I'm surprised to find you here." I quickly glanced sideways and rolled my eyes, looking up to the sky in protest; _why?_

"Well, Mr. Salvatore," I began. "I _do_ live here."

"Huh," he replied, sitting next to me on the bench, a mischievous smile on his face. "It must have slipped my mind." I sighed and continued my sewing, occasionally pricking myself with the needle, although it wasn't because of my deficient skill, but because I could feel Damon's piercing gaze on me.

"It isn't polite to stare," I scolded.

"Excuse me?" he asked, voice wavering as he was caught off guard. I turned in my seat so I could face him, carefully placing my jacket down next to me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. "Do you need to speak with my father—"

"I already did."

"Then…then why are you still here?" I felt awkward around him, almost like I was walking on a rickety old bridge and was about to lose my balance and fall. I didn't like the feeling; I had always been confident, sure of my actions, but just as I had at the General Store the day I met him, that confidence had vanished.

"I saw you sitting out here and I asked your father if I could keep you company for a while," he replied. "He seemed to think that it was a perfect suggestion; that you haven't made many friends in Mystic Falls yet."

"Did he tell you what my favorite color is too?" I asked in a teasing manner. Although Marybeth had been hounding me about attending afternoon teas and garden parties with her—much to my dismay—and I hadn't exactly been welcomed very warmly beyond what was socially polite; I knew that she and Robert were both worried about me, even if they hadn't said much about it yet.

"I'm afraid not," he laughed.

Maybe getting to know Damon Salvatore wouldn't be too bad after all…

* * *

><p><strong>Damon's POV<strong>

"…and they really threw you out?" Miranda asked, her eyes wide with awe.

"I'm exaggerating," I replied in modesty. "You don't really want to hear any more of that story."

"Of course I do," she laughed with glee. "I want to know all about your adventure."

"It isn't an adventure," I insisted. "Just another night with my friends, roaming the streets of Mystic Falls aimlessly."

We had spent over an hour talking as we sat in the garden, telling stories and sharing laughs. I was ashamed that, despite trying to pay attention to everything that Miranda said as she had done for me, I found myself just staring into her eyes or at her lips as she spoke. Miranda had an enthusiasm during our conversation that I couldn't say I had ever experience with anyone I had ever met; she hung onto every word that came out of my mouth, asking questions and making comments.

When she told me of a time she had gone to Boston with her father, I had asked why she was so interested in my stories of Mystic Falls when she had been to such a big city.

"Everyone is faceless," she said bashfully. "They blend in with the crowd. I would rather be in a small town, where everyone has an individual personality and a story that can only ever be their own."

"I guess you were disappointed when you met the Fell girls then," I teased, knowing that Reverend Fell's daughters could be quite…boring wasn't even close to the word I was looking for. Miranda opened her mouth to reply when the soft roar of thunder in the distance stopped her.

We both looked up at the once perfectly blue sky to see it was overcast in a dull grey.

"How time flies," Miranda sighed. "If the thunder hadn't stopped us, we would have surely been caught in the rain."

"I would have stayed in the rain if it meant staying in your good company, Miss Arlington."

"Miranda," she insisted.

"Miranda," I repeated, smiling at the way her name sounded on my tongue. "May I escort you inside, Miranda?" I stood up and offered her my hand, which she took after an almost non-existent hesitation.

"Of course you may Mr. Sa—"

"Damon," I told her.

"Of course you may…Damon."

**A/N: Oh my GOD! It's been so long since I've updated. I can't believe I just let this story fall behind. Well, I'm back to it now. Reviews are always appreciated. Until the next chapter...whenever that is. (Teasing!)**


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